Circling the corner to Locust Street Old Mrs. Morris I greet She takes me in to warm my feet Blood drops on white roses. My next victim here in sight I quietly rest and wait for night There my daemon will take another bite Blood drops on white roses. Watching her rock in her chair Gazing at her white curls of hair Such a waste, I must declare Blood drops on white roses. Up the stairs I hear her creak Silently behind her I quietly sneak Under her foot I let out a squeak Blood drops on white roses. Out the door I scurry To reach my next victims I must hurry Of old Mrs. Morris I no longer worry Blood drops on white roses.Birth sign: Pisces
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